


Dead Tape

by Marguerite



Category: The West Wing, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-16
Updated: 2009-03-16
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marguerite/pseuds/Marguerite
Summary: FollowingThree Wordson XF but before17 Peoplein West Wing. (29K). Leo: "Their immediate supervisor, Walter Skinner of the Bureau, called me to express concern over what he called, and I quote 'treatment of a civil servant that borders on the insane, not to mention the shitload of paperwork, involved in getting the United States government to declare this man alive.'"





	Dead Tape

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

"Explain to me again, Leo, why I'm having to take this meeting."

The President sat behind his desk, taking perverse enjoyment in seeing Leo McGarry shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. If he knew Leo, and he did, then his friend was waiting for him to snap like an overstretched rubber band.

"It's a personal request, sir. Their boss is an old friend, someone I trust, and he's never asked me for a favor in the twenty years I've known him."

"So he's called in that favor now, when I had one foot out the door to go visit Ellie?"

"There's an element of urgency, sir, or it would've kept for a while. I think this will be quick."

Jed Bartlet looked into Leo's eyes. "Why do I have the feeling that this will be anything but quick?"

"Because you always know when I'm shoveling the manure really, really hard, sir."

While the two men laughed, the door opened slightly. Mrs. Landingham's sleekly-tressed gray head appeared in the doorway. "Your one o'clocks are here to see you, sir, and I'm going to lunch with Charlie."

"Fine, just bring him back when you're done with him, and send the people in, please."

Bartlet was not in the habit of standing up for guests, but one look at the heavily pregnant woman was enough to put him on his feet in an instant. She looked up at him gratefully when he ushered her to the loveseat, but she insisted on standing until he took the chair opposite her.

He already liked her. From the demure cut of her maternity suit, to the sweep of her rich, red hair, to the cross she wore at her throat, to the very strength of her military bearing, he liked her.

It was the guy with her that gave him the crawling willies.

Not that he wasn't immaculately dressed, which he was. Not that his manners weren't impeccable, which they were. He waited for the President and Leo to be seated before nodding to them and taking his place at the woman's side, and that behavior was clearly not rehearsed, it was ingrained. But there was an edge to him, something in his bright eyes that looked as if it could slice a man to ribbons. An old pain compounded by new agony.

When the man finally spoke, it was to Leo. "We appreciate you arranging this meeting for us. A.D. Skinner spoke very highly of you."

"It's my pleasure. This is going to be kind of an informal interview, since my staff thinks I've already left for the weekend and God knows what's going to happen while they think the cat's away. Now, what can we do for you?" 

The man and woman exchanged glances. "It's difficult to know where to start," the woman said to Bartlet.

"You could start with your names," the President suggested.

The woman's smile melted his heart. "I'm so sorry...I assumed...I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and this is my partner, Fox Mulder. Or my ex-partner. I'm not sure."

"So. Are you or are you not in the FBI, Mr. Mulder?"

"It's hard to say, exactly, Mr. President."

"Mr. Mulder, by my watch you have been in here for three minutes and I know nothing about you but your name and the fact that you may or may not be in the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Now, unless we want to continue playing twenty questions..."

"I'm dead."

The President's lips twitched and Leo's eyebrows arched. "You seem fairly talkative for a corpse. So what happened - you were declared dead? Missing in action?"

"No, sir," said Scully, her voice weary and tentative. "Agent Mulder was on a case in Oregan when he was..."

The door opened and Bartlet gave Sam Seaborn an irritated glance. "I must be going deaf, because I didn't hear anyone knock," the President commented.

"I'm sorry, sir. Mrs. Landingham isn't out there and the door was open, so I thought Leo was gonna be here alone...I...I see you have visitors."

"No, no, come on in. I think you should hear this." Bartlet waved Sam into the seat next to Leo. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI, and a man who may or may not be Fox Mulder, who may or may not be in the FBI. You, Sam, may or may not need to take notes."

Scully's eyes twinkled as she watched Mulder rise and introduce himself. "Fox Mulder. Really."

"Sam Seaborn. Last time I checked." Sam leaned over to shake Scully's hand. "Please, ma'am, don't get up."

"I couldn't if I tried," she sighed. "Dana Scully."

"So. Where were we?" Sam asked as he settled into his chair.

"I was trying to explain the circumstances under which Agent Mulder was declared dead," Scully began, but Leo interrupted.

"If he's been accidentally declared dead, then surely there are ways to correct the mistake," he said.

"Usually, when someone's been declared dead it's because the person was missing, or in some other way presumed to be deceased without the body being found." Scully's voice shook. "But Agent Mulder was found. Dead."

"You mean that a body was found that was identified falsely as..."

"No." Scully's hands trembled and Bartlet watched, fascinated, as Mulder slipped his palm across Scully's arm and down to her hand. Her mouth turned up in a grateful smile even though her eyes showed that she'd recently been crying. "His body was found in a field in Montana. He'd been dead for days."

"The body of someone who LOOKED like him," prompted Leo. Sam's mouth was hanging open, and Bartlet was certain he could feel his own pulse in his neck.

"No, Mr. McGarry." Scully's voice was raw. "I was led to the scene, where I pronounced Agent Mulder dead."

There was a brisk knock as Josh Lyman poked his head around the half-open door. "Oh, I'm sorry - Mrs. Landingham wasn't at her desk and I had a note from Leo that he wanted to see me, so I..."

"Well, you're one step ahead of Sam, because at least you knocked. Come in, Josh, and join this party." The President waved him in. "These are Special Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder. This is Joshua Lyman, Mr. McGarry's Deputy."

"I can come back later..."

"No, no, I wouldn't have you miss this for the world. Leo, bring him up to speed while someone," and Bartlet stared at Sam as he continued, "gets Agent Scully a glass of water, because I'm sure she's thirsty."

Leo, his eyes wide, turned to Josh as Sam scrambled to his feet in search of water. "Agent Scully says that this man, Agent Mulder, was found dead...when was this?"

"Three months ago."

"Ah." Josh nodded, smiling at Scully as if at someone who might be more than a little insane. "But now he's not. Dead."

"No, he's not." Scully smiled her thanks at Sam, and took a sip of the water.

"Because...it wasn't really him, right?"

"She identified the body herself," Bartlet put in. "Perhaps you were so upset at seeing someone who looked like your partner...you made an incorrect identification."

"No, sir. I'm a forensic pathologist, and I've been Agent Mulder's partner for eight years. I examined the body closely at the morgue. It was this man. I'm sure of it." Her fingers tightened around Mulder's for a moment before she seemed to become aware that everyone was looking at her. She folded her hands in her lap.

Bartlet had no idea what to say next, but he was keenly aware that no one else was going to speak until he said something. "But you realized that you were mistaken, that he really wasn't dead..."

"I wish...I wish I had." Scully stopped speaking and looked up at Mulder with such regret that Bartlet felt his own throat constricting in response.

Mulder gave Scully a wry smile before speaking. "The fact is, Mr. President, that I was dressed up in my best Armani suit, laid out for eternal rest in a very fine coffin, and buried next to my mother in a cemetery in North Carolina." Mulder's voice was neutral, his face impassive save for the vein throbbing at his temple.

Leo, Sam, Josh, and Bartlet turned around as the door opened. "Not now!" they cried in unison.

"I'm sorry," C.J. Cregg shouted over the din. "Mrs. Landingham..."

"We know. We know." Josh stood up and gave C.J. his place. "Short version. Meet Agents Scully and Mulder of the FBI. The guy, there, is Mulder. Oh, and you should know that he's dead."

"Dead."

"Yep."

"Excuse me. Did April fool's come late this year?"

"Just sit down. This is C.J. Cregg, the White House Press Secretary." Bartlet's introduction was made without looking at anyone but Scully. "Now. You buried him."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"In the ground."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"This man. The one sitting here."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"Good God." Bartlet ran a hand through his hair and looked Mulder up and down. "That could explain my rather visceral negative reaction when I met you."

"I have that effect on a large percentage of the population," Mulder said, "and sometimes with far less reason."

Josh snickered at the agent's deadpan reply. C.J. shouldered him in the ribs as she leaned forward. "I would appear to be entirely out of this particular loop. As usual," she said. "You mean to tell us that you were not just accidentally declared dead, but were actually buried. In, you know, a coffin."

"Yes. I know. A coffin. I'm going to be paying it off for years." Mulder twisted in his chair so that he could look C.J. in the eye. "Ironically, the bills for my funeral hit before my life insurance paid off, so you can just imagine the financial tangle my affairs are in."

"You're right. I can just imagine." C.J. pointed her gaze at the President. "Sir. Please. Tell me we're not in Kansas and let me tap my heels together." 

"I'd be glad to if you'd take me with you." Bartlet folded his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair. "Let me recap. Agent Mulder was dead but now he's alive. What, exactly, is the role of the President of the United States in this rather extraordinary turn of events?"

Leo's baritone soothed the electricity in the air. "Their immediate supervisor, Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the Bureau, called me to express concern over what he called, and I quote, 'treatment of a civil servant that borders on the insane, not to mention the shitload of paperwork,' involved in getting the United States government to declare this man alive."

"Thank you, Mr. McGarry." Scully smiled her gratitude and faced the President. "You see, sir, the FBI doesn't hire the deceased. Mulder's social security number is invalid. Even if he could look for other employment, his degree is worthless because he's considered dead."

"And therefore unemployable," Sam put in.

"Not only unemployable - what about trying to get health insurance?" Josh added, tapping his chest with a finger. "And I thought I was having a tough time. I mean, talk about a pre-existing condition!"

"Mr. Lyman was the victim of an assassination attempt last spring," Scully whispered to Mulder. "I'm sorry," she said to everyone else. "I have to fill in some gaps."

"That's quite all right. In fact," Bartlet sighed, "that's the only thing since this conversation started that I've been able to grasp."

"Here's what's going on, sir. I lost my mother last year," Mulder said. "From her estate, I have enough to keep myself afloat for a while. But the funeral home wants to be paid, and the guys who exhumed my...the grave, and the drivers who took the casket to the hospital. And the hospital bills." He looked into the stricken countenances of everyone in the room. "Not to mention what it's gonna cost to dry-clean the suit they buried me in."

"Mulder," Scully groaned.

C.J. coughed, then looked up to see Sam struggling to keep a straight face. Josh was studying his shoes, while Leo and the President goggled at one another.

"Well, it was my best suit," Mulder huffed.

"Okay. Bottom line time." Bartlet turned to the partners. "What is it that you want this office to do on your behalf?"

"What Agent Mulder needs is an official document declaring that he is alive and entitled to all of the benefits of being a living, breathing, American citizen." Scully's face was flushed. "He wants to work, sir. He wants the life that was taken away to be returned to him. This was no false imprisonment, no clerical error, nothing for which an apology and some money will make amends. It was a horrible nightmare not of his making, and we've come to you to ask for your help in restoring what is rightfully his."

"That's a lovely speech, Agent Scully." Bartlet looked up at Sam. "I might just have to fire you."

"Works for me. I'd love to be his attorney," Sam smirked. Josh rolled his eyes at him.

Bartlet glared at the two men, who settled back like guilty schoolboys. "I understand your predicament, but I'm not sure exactly what my influence might be."

"You pardon turkeys," C.J. said brightly.

Scully gaped at her. Mulder started to chuckle.

"I'm sorry. That came out completely wrong. What I mean was that if the President can pardon a turkey..."

"...or draft one into military service," Josh muttered under his breath, for which he received a jab from one of C.J.'s elbows as she spoke.

"What I mean is that whatever you declare Agent Mulder to be, he is. isn't he?"

"Claudia Jean, you've crystallized the entire situation. Supposing I were to send a personal note to the head of the Social Security Administration, stating that one Fox Mulder is alive and needs his identity back - would that be good? And someone get me Louis Freeh on the phone. That, I can take care of this instant. Next - what about your university degree? Who do I need to talk to?"

"I don't know if you can help me there - it's from Oxford," Mulder said. He looked down at his shoes, as if trying to look modest about an accomplishment when he actually felt nothing of the kind.

Bartlet raised his eyebrows at Mulder. "My sphere of influence is a little broader than one might think."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Apology accepted, and someone make a note to talk to Marbury about this little problem." Leo groaned and the President flashed him a knife-edged grin. "Now, what is that degree in?"

"Psychology."

"Must be coming in handy these days," Josh said.

"More than you know. But even the ability to self-diagnose doesn't help the impatience."

Josh nodded, something dark and troubled in his eyes. Bartlet offered him a sympathetic glance before he continued.

"Leo mentioned something about a 'degree of urgency and I only see one urgent thing in this room. So, forgive my impertinence and feel free to tell me if I'm way off-base, but would it be related to...?" Bartlet waved a hand in the general direction of Scully's midsection. "And that it involves not just you, Agent Scully, but also Agent Mulder?"

"Yes, sir," Scully said, her voice a combination of embarrassment and relief at having the drawing-room elephant, as it were, discussed at last.

"I assume this happened when you were alive the first time?" Leo asked.

"That's the general idea, yes," answered Mulder before turning back toward Bartlet. "But you should know that it's not the way it looks, Mr. President."

"It looks like the First Lady did all three times she was about to present me with a daughter. How else should it look?"

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances.

"We're not...we've never been..." Scully swallowed, finally directing her words at C.J. as if trying to avoid the prying eyes of all the men in the room. "We're not intimate," she finally managed to stutter.

C.J.'s eyes were round. "Yeah. Right," she muttered.

So much for sisterhood, Bartlet thought as he watched Scully's cheeks turn bright pink. "I think this may fall under the umbrella of too much information, Agent Scully."

"I understand, sir. Believe me, the only reason I bring it up at all is that you really should understand how this came about." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "The reason I had to resort to scientific methods to have a baby is that all other options were taken from me in the line of duty."

Sam shifted in his chair, his expression a combination of curiosity and sympathy. Josh looked uncomfortable and C.J.'s face crumbled. Leo shook his head slowly.

Bartlet gave her a solemn smile and reached over to pat her hand. "I'm very sorry."

"Thank you." Her voice quavered and Mulder took over for her.

"Agent Scully was assigned to my rather unconventional division of the FBI because of her medical and scientific expertise. She threw away a promising career because she believed in the work, and she was repaid by being the unwilling subject of an experiment that left her with cancer. When she managed to recover from that, she discovered that those same experiments that had nearly cost her life had left her unable to bring a life of her own into the world." He stopped for a moment, taking time to meet the eyes of everyone in the room before speaking again. "All this suffering was visited upon her because of me. When a medical opportunity to right part of the wrong became available, it wasn't something I could possibly refuse."

"In vitro?" Bartlet asked, and the agents nodded. "I've often heard how close law enforcement partners can be, but this...is an enormous responsibility."

"Mulder and I realize that, sir," Scully whispered. "He didn't know, I didn't know, we never discussed the ramifications...because we thought it wasn't going to be possible. There were two attempts, and I was told that both had failed. It was the day he disappeared that I discovered that the second doctor had been wrong."

Mulder rose and walked behind the loveseat. He put his hands on Scully's shoulders, one thumb idly caressing the ends of her hair. "What I'm trying to accomplish by being declared alive is not merely the right to hold down a job and get pizzas delivered to my door. I owe it to Scully to be alive in every sense of the word. This woman, who has given so much for her country, bore this burden alone while she searched for me only to find that the father of her child was dead. She had to bury me, to take care of my affairs, and still she continued to work for the United States Government. It is that very government - the one that you, sir, represent for all of us - that is refusing to reward its dedicated servant, whose one wish is not glory and honor, but to have her partner restored to her.

"This is not my fight anymore. Whether I end my career in a blaze of glory at the FBI or asking if you want to supersize the meal that's clogging your arteries like rush hour traffic - that's no longer the point. The point is that this woman, who has borne so much grief as a result of her dedication to duty, deserves to have me. Actually, she deserves a million times better than me, but it's my life she wants and it's my life she shall have, no matter the cost."

Mulder took in a long breath and directed his final statement to the President. "I'm standing in the Oval Office to ask you now, man to man, to bring me back from the dead. For Dana Scully's sake."

Out of his peripheral vision Bartlet could see C.J. dabbing at the corner of her eye. Josh and Leo were twin visions of stunned pallor. Bartlet turned to Sam. "Okay, Sam, that's it. You're really fired," he said in a tone laced with affection before looking back at the others in the room, and he was relieved to see Scully's trembling lips curve upward in a smile. "Now, is someone going to call Freeh or do I have to do everything around here myself?"

"I'm on it." Josh sprang to his feet and loped to the door. He grunted as he looked up and down the hallway. "I don't see her anywhere. Hey, has anyone seen Mrs. Landingham?"

A woman's voice piped up. "She took Charlie to lunch at Happy Dragon because he won that bet about the thing. I can get you Donna."

"No. Wait, yes. Get me Donna. Sooner rather than later."

"Right away, Mr. Lyman."

Josh grinned as he sauntered back to his chair. "It IS good to be king."

"I believe the President would be the king," Leo reminded him.

"So I'm the crown prince. It's still good."

"I'm thinking you resemble the court jester, the one most likely to get beheaded for not being funny enough, so knock it off." Bartlet held his hand out to Sam. "Get me a piece of stationery and an envelope. I'll knock off a note to Social Security, make their hair stand on end." He fished in his pocket for his glasses and put them on his nose with one hand while he started writing with the other. "Fox. Kind of an unusual name."

"I don't use it much," Mulder said. "One too many Dr. Seuss jokes in my childhood. Warped me for life."

"So you're not going to name your child something obnoxious, then. Good." Bartlet signed his name with a flourish and folded the note crisply before placing it in the envelope. "How about someone getting a courier? Someone who'll get them to read this yesterday and act on it last week?"

"Think Toby'd do it?" Sam asked. "'Cause I'd pay, you know, big money to see that."

"He could run it in on my bicycle," Bartlet offered.

"That would be MY bicycle, and it's no longer available." Leo gave the President a stern look.

From the hallway they heard a woman's voice. "Someone phoned and said Josh is looking for me?"

"Come in, Donna," the President called, and Donna Moss entered the Oval Office.

"Sir, I didn't think you were here today."

"Well, there's some question about that. Mrs. Landingham seems to have wandered off or been abducted or something, so I need some favors. Get me Louis Freeh on the phone, find a courier who'll run something over to the Social Security office, and someone drag Lord Marbury out of whatever pub he's in and get him into Leo's office." Bartlet stopped, noticing that Donna was staring at Mulder. "Did you get any of that?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Freeh, courier, Marbury. But he's...you're..." She waved her fingers in the air. "I've heard about you. You're the...dead guy."

"That's Special Agent Dead Guy to you," Mulder said, sounding amused rather than edgy.

"Donna? You know about this?" Josh asked. "How do you know about this?"

"My roommate's best friend works in the motor pool at the FBI. She told me...wow. I never thought I'd actually meet you."

"Technically, you haven't." He walked out from behind Scully and shook Donna's free hand. "I'm Fox Mulder and this is my partner, Dana Scully."

Bartlet noticed not only Donna's wide-eyed stare but also Josh's grumpy expression as he addressed her. "And you, O Assistant Mine, have a lot of work to do to ensure that Special Agent Dead Guy becomes Agent Live Alive-and-Kicking with all due speed, so...?"

"Okay, got it. Nice to meet you. Good luck with the UFOs." She tossed back her long hair as she walked out of the office and toward Mrs. Landingham's desk.

Leo rubbed his forehead with his forefinger and thumb. "UFOs."

"Actually, what we investigate is paranormal phenomena," Mulder offered in a breezy tone.

"Mulder," Scully hissed. "Do you want to stay dead?"

"Okay. Sorry. We investigate unexplained cases using a combination of scientific and intuitive means." He wrinkled his nose at Scully. "Is that better?"

"Not much, no."

"I didn't mention the vast conspiracy."

"You just mentioned the vast conspiracy, Mulder."

"You sound like you work here instead of for the Bureau," Josh commented.

An alarm on Leo's watch went off and he turned to the President. "Mr. President, you've got a car waiting to take you to Air Force One."

"Yes, that I do." He rose, and everyone else got up with him. "I must say that while this meeting took longer than expected, it was certainly one of the most interesting I've had in the last few weeks." He shook Scully's hand, covering it with both his own. "Agent Scully, I commend you for your devotion to our country and with all my heart I wish the best for you."

She looked up at him with gratitude shining from her eyes. "Thank you, Mr. President."

"And you." He turned to Mulder and offered his hand as he cocked his head toward Scully. "This is none of my business, but seeing as how it's never stopped me before, I'm going to tell you that you really need to..."

"We're negotiating," Mulder said with a crooked smile, which Scully returned as her face flushed a little. "There are some obstacles."

"I'm removing them." Bartlet's voice was firm.

"Well, there's also...she's Catholic, and I'm sort of a lapsed..."

"Justice of the Peace," Bartlet intoned as Leo handed him his briefcase. "Or a boat - what's the Navy ship coming in this afternoon?"

"That would be the U.S.S. Endeavor, sir," C.J. said after consulting her notebook.

"Get on it. We can expedite the paperwork." He looked down at Scully, who was fighting back laughter. "What?"

"Oh, sir, my brother is the captain of the Endeavor...he's...he'd..."

Mulder finished. "He's not my biggest fan, sir. In fact, I could safely say that this would be the first shotgun wedding in history where the shotgun was pointed at the officiant rather than the groom."

"Well. Far be it from me to cause family turmoil." Bartlet straightened his tie. "But when - that's not if, it's when, because you know where I stand on this issue - you decide to tie the knot, make sure Mr. McGarry knows when and where." As the two agents stared at him in disbelief, he grinned, but his voice was rich and serious. "You may serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States, but sometimes your President takes his greatest pleasure in serving those who please him."

"Sir...thank you..." Mulder's voice blended in with Scully's as they stood stock-still and watched Bartlet walk briskly out the door to the patio, proud of a job well done.

"Back from lunch, Charlie?" Bartlet asked his aide, who smiled and handed the President a fortune cookie. "Ah, thank you. Never let knowledge and education get in the way of a good superstition just before you get on an airplane."

"No, sir."

"See those people in there?"

"The ones with Leo and Sam and..."

"Yes, those are the ones. Keep an eye on them for me, Charlie." Bartlet cast a wistful glance back into his office. He could almost hear Josh and Mulder trading insurance company horror stories and could swear Sam was telling Scully to sit back down and put her feet up for a while. And that C.J. was muttering "UFOs" to herself so she could tell Toby about it over a beer later that night.

He caught Leo's eye and smiled. These people would be taken care of, and Leo would enjoy kicking Freeh's ass personally. God bless Leo.

God bless them all.

"Sir?" Charlie prompted. "Your ride's waiting."

Bartlet waved him aside so that he could watch for a little while longer. "In a second, Charlie. Sometimes, it's just good to stand here and be king."

***  
END

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